100x100 Birthday Swim Report (or, How this Christmas Was the Greatest Day Ever)

I’m not sure but I think the 100x100 Birthday Swim was invented by our beloved Grand Coachie Hillary Biscay. This is when you get together with your friends and celebrate a birthday (or any special occasion, really) by swimming 100 100s (and now, for the feats of strength!). If you swim in a pool that’s measured in meters, that’s 10,000 meters, or 6.2 miles, aka swimming a 10k; how super cool is it to be able to say you’ve done that!?

Obstacles to doing this on my birthday:

• Gyms (and the pools within) are closed on Christmas day.
• Everybody’s busy (rightfully so, it’s a family day!).
• It’s cold outside, so nobody wants to!

Waaaa… poor me.

Note: Be careful what you wish for. About a month ago, I was indulging in some complaining on this subject and Linda (high school swim coach extraordinaire!) said, “Hey, maybe I can open the pool at Blossom on Christmas day. Let me check with my aquatic director.” And just like that, we were able to get into the beautiful Davis Pool and swim 100x100 on Christmas morning!

Before - all smiles!

 Linda’s swim kids wrote the set for us and Dawn weighed in. On Christmas morning at 6:30 am, Linda, Orissa, Dawn, Herb and I met at Blossom to start our swim.

The set.

At first, we all had our own lanes, but after the first 20 100s, Dawn told me to come and share hers. “Sit on my feet for these band-only 100s,” she said. Band-only is where you tie your feet together and swim with only your arms, dragging the rest of your body behind you, and it’s hard. The most I’ve ever done is 25 meters at a time with a bunch of rest. So basically, 45 minutes into our 4-hour workout, I entered hell, even with the benefit of drafting off Dawn.

She dragged me through the next 15x100 too, telling me to “fight” and “stay with it” as I gasped at the wall, touching and going, while she and Linda got AT LEAST 10-15 seconds rest on each interval and didn’t even look like they were breathing hard. “I can’t believe I asked for this. It’s my birthday, I did this to myself, what the f, OMG we’re not even halfway through this, it's my birthday and they are HAZING ME” is what was going through my head. Herb was doing his own thing in the lane beside us, Dawn and Linda were gliding effortlessly side by side as I gasped on Dawn’s feet for 25 meters and then lost her on the first turn each time, and Orissa tried valiantly to keep up in her own lane on the other side of Linda.

As we worked through a set of PBB (paddles, buoy, band) with aching shoulders, Dawn commented that she needed to leave for Santa duties. At this exact time, Brian showed up to join us. We all hugged and squealed and took a photo for posterity, and then Dawn left after 5400 total meters. And Linda said the best words of the day, “I hate PBB! Let’s get rid of it! Let’s kick with fins and kickboards instead!” A glimmer of hope – the workout was changing. Orissa and I smiled joyfully as we kicked and gossiped and chatted for 1000 meters.

Halfway through!

It wasn’t all fun and games though. Linda made us work hard after that, but finally we were finished, and after congratulating ourselves and each other, we headed out to spend time with our families. I can't even describe how grateful and filled with love I am for my fun, fearless friends who came to swim with me early in the morning on a day that’s reserved for family.

Finished! Success!

That wasn't all for the day, though...

I would already have chalked yesterday up as one of the greatest birthdays of my life due to the swim party. But I had another surprise in store. Later that evening, I opened my present from Robert. The packaging said Quarq on it, but I couldn’t believe that that's what was really inside the box. It’s probably just an accessory of some kind…nope – it’s a power meter. Quarq Elsa power meter OMG and it’s mine!

Matt and Dawn have been preaching power to me forever and for almost as long as that, I've been trying to figure out how to get my hands on a power meter. It's certainly not a "need" but it is most definitely a "want." I don’t understand how all three of them were able to keep this a secret from me, but they totally did. I was even in Bicycle Heaven on Friday, crying about power to Matt as he kept a straight face and told me not to believe in Santa Claus. And Dawn, who can never keep a secret but always tells you not to say anything, was able to hold it in while I begged her on Saturday to hit up Meredith Kessler for a used Powertap hub. Even Hillary knew…sneaky sneaky sneaky. It's so cool that the people that I hold in highest regard were all conspiring together on this fabulous surprise.

The best gift, though, is that my amazing hubby totally gets it. As I sat there speechless over his gift, he quietly said to me, “You had to have it. I want to help you to be great at this.” He gets it, he gets me; I am the luckiest luckiest luckiest.

Alright, I've gushed enough for one post...but finally, here's a little inspiration from a super cool RALLY TOWEL that Linda had made for all the Iron Whiners. I love love love this quote:

Happy holidays and happy training, and here's to a fantastic 2014!

I Hate Math but I Love Numbers - Staying Motivated through the Holidays

About 6 weeks ago, I looked at my running log and thought, "Awesome! I have 2 months until the end of the year, I'm going to hit a thousand miles EASY!" I was sitting at like 930 miles for the year so far. For the last few years, my standard running goal has been to run at least a thousand miles in each year. The first time I accomplished this, I was in Las Vegas with Robert celebrating New Year's Eve and our wedding anniversary...and at 6 pm on New Year's Eve, I was on a treadmill running 7 miles because I needed to make a thousand. (I think/hope I'm not alone here with silly goals like this. There was a storyline on a recent Modern Family in which Phil set and accomplished a similar goal of walking "to Canada" on an elliptical trainer. So at least the guy who wrote that part of that episode knows what I'm talking about here.) That experience taught me two things about myself - that I enjoy fun, ridiculous, useless goals. And once they're set, I'll do anything to achieve them.

So...6 weeks ago when I looked at my running log, I could have stopped there. But I didn't. Instead, something in my brain said, "Ok, you're going to get a thousand running miles easy. But how does it compare to last year?" Hmm. Now I needed 77 more miles, to make it to 1077 and match last year. And I could have stopped there. But I didn't. Instead, I thought, "Hey, I wonder how this year's bike and swim mileage stacks up to last year's?" The bike was easy peasy to achieve, just 200ish more miles. But the swim was not such a piece of cake.

I sent a note to Coachie - "In each of the next five weeks, I need to swim 8625 yards, bike 30 miles, and run 29.8 miles." and she replied back - "No problem." I saw her the next night for a pain cave trainer session, and we talked about the goals. She said she totally understood because she loves numbers too. And then she said something like, "I think you got this, you can totally run 30 miles before the end of the year *eyeroll*" and I said, "You know those miles I sent you were per WEEK, right? Not total." And she said,"Yikes! Ok, yeah, I think you can still do it for the bike and run...but probably not the swim goal."

And with that I set out to do it. I crammed 30 miles of running into the next 3 days. Of course, then I promptly went back to Las Vegas on vacation for Robert's birthday and missed an entire four days of workouts. As soon as we got home, I once again became laser focused on the goal. This meant that in addition to my usual daily workouts, I was running 1 or 2 miles at work during lunch with a couple of my coworkers (trying not to get too sweaty while running during the workday is fun - and by fun I mean not fun). I've been adding an extra 200 or 500 or 1000 to the end of swim workouts.

I'm 100% aware that all of this is "junk miles" but I don't care. I have become obsessed with making this happen! So here I am with 11 days left in the year and I need 12,000+ yards of swimming and 55.5 miles of running before end of day on December 31. I met the bike goal earlier this week (woo hoo!).

I told the girls about my ridiculous self-inflicted challenge, and Aixa decided to join me on my quest - she's aiming for 1000 miles of running this year too, and she's got about 50 miles to go. I think we're going to make it. And FABULOUS LINDA, our fishy friend, the high school swim coach, has determined that she'll help me out by swimming a 10K with me ON CHRISTMAS DAY - my birthday - how cool is that!!?

We'll see how this all shakes out. It has certainly made the last few weeks of training more fun and motivating at a time of year when it can often be anything but. Happy holidays!

Strong, Calm, and Confident - Mental Training

This weekend, a few weeks into the "off season" (which actually means marathon season - which is really not "off" at all), I took Coachie up on an offer to ride with her. It would be foolish not to accept an invitation to ride with Dawn - my take on this is always that if I ride with her, it's going to hurt but I'll get so much more out of it than riding by myself (or with the girls for a donut) that I have to do it every time I can.

So I went with her a couple of weeks ago and it was a total sufferfest (for me. For her, it was a "social ride" which meant she chattered easily the entire time while I tried not to die). It ended up being a 4 hour ride, during which we rode down Krueger Canyon (the last time she rode there, she crashed and broke her collarbone, so that was a fun memory to revisit), and back along some horrible new chip seal and down some access roads to major highways that I'm still trying to block out of my memory. The last hour and a half was torture for me, but afterwards, I thanked her and told her I would love to ride with her again, anytime she'll have me.

That opportunity came up again this weekend. She extended an invitation to the Tri-Belief group and I was the only sucker taker. It was cold and windy and we headed up Blanco Rd. at 12 mph. At first I wondered if she was waiting for me, but of course she was struggling too, leading us into the 15-25 mph headwind and providing a (very welcome) draft for me.

I love riding with Dawn because I can watch what she does and copy it. Just like following Hillary down Mt. Lemmon at camp, I followed Dawn through all the twists and turns, up and down hills, watching how she turned and how she leaned and when she stayed in the bars and when she sat up. By trying to do what she does, I'm learning to be more comfortable on my bike. Woo hoo! Oh, and also we took a break to take some photos of the cows.

At one point, Dawn had to do a 15 minute effort into the wind, along a straightish road with rolling hills. As I watched her disappear into the distance, I concentrated on my own effort - stay in the aerobars. Keep making smooth circles with your feet. Don't let up, keep riding strong. Thoughts came up, "I'm afraid of the crosswind - what if I crash? I'm scared to turn corners." I refused to let my mind use those words - scared and afraid. Instead, a mantra bubbled up, which I repeated throughout the ride - "I am strong, I am calm, I am confident." (Sounded quite a lot like Stuart Smalley or the nanny talking to the little girl in "The Help" - haha - but it worked!) I thought about racing - I don't have to catch up with her, I just have to know I'm going as fast as I can. When I finally did reach her (she had turned around for me), I felt proud of my effort.

The reward was a screaming tailwind on the way home. Of course by this time, almost 3 hours later, I was cooked. Dawn instructed me to get on her wheel, never falling more than a bike length back - we only had an hour to get back to her house. So we blasted back down Blanco Rd, this time at 40 mph. And although I was suffering, I continued to repeat my mantra, and I stayed on her wheel (in zone 4. Zone 4!!! On her wheel with a tailwind!!!).

I'm putting this in the bank for the next racing season. I am strong, I am calm, I am confident (and doggone it, people like me!). Ride on!

San Antonio Rock n Roll Marathon Race Report 2013 ("Fun Run" with the Girls)

It all started with a coupon code last December. First, the marathon date changed from mid-November to December 8, which would mitigate the risk of miserably hot temperatures that have happened nearly every race day since the race's inception in 2008. "Come join us for cooler temps!" they said, "And here's a coupon to sweeten the deal!" Even after suffering through the marathon with Shelly in 2011 and shrieking "I'm never doing a stand-alone marathon again!" to everyone who would listen, I admit that I'm the one who rallied my friends and talked them all into signing up (sorry, girls). Then, a few weeks later, it was determined that the new date conflicted with the Dallas White Rock Marathon, and Competitor Group moved the date back to November 17. In their defense, they offered a refund for folks who had already registered. We opted not to take it.

I had two conversations with Dawn about this race. One was back in early fall. With the hamstring issues I'd been having and my A race 3 weeks prior to the marathon, I questioned training for and racing the marathon. Should I switch to the half? At that time we determined that I'd train for Longhorn and do a quick little ramp up for the marathon afterwards with the understanding that I would be training for a "fun run" and should not expect to get a new marathon PR. With Longhorn on my mind, this was fine with me.

The second conversation was the night before the race. "What's your goal?" Dawn asked. Well, it's a fun run with the girls. "OK, but what's your actual goal?" Honestly Coachie, I am terrified of The Marathon. I have run 4 of them. The first one was a disaster. The next 3 all resulted in the same time (4:46). I am stuck with this terrible marathon PR and I really don't want to get that time again. Not to mention the forecast for the day was for brutal heat. She listened and we put together a plan: Run by feel, take off the heart rate strap. Go easy at first, pick it up after a few miles, find a pace group to chase, don't fade, crush the last 6 miles. And stay positive the whole time. No negative thoughts allowed. Got it?

Race day came and as promised, the morning was 70 degrees and dripping with humidity. Aixa picked me up at 5:45 and we drove to the very well organized shuttle at the AT&T center. Rode the bus to the Alamodome and headed straight for the porta potties. These occupied our time for the next hour or so. Pee, get back in line. Pee again. Met up with Linda, Brian, and Orissa in our corral (13) and we were ready to begin. As we inched towards the start line with the thousands of other people around us, I was filled with pride over how cute we looked in our Smash kits and did not feel nervous about the day.

I ducked into a porta potty right before we got to the start line. This proved a smart move because this was the first marathon where I didn't have to stop in the middle of the race! The girls and Brian waited for me and we crossed the start line. Immediately, Aixa and Orissa were off to the races. I knew that if I followed them, I'd suffer later, so I stuck to the plan of going easy the first few miles. Linda and Brian stayed behind with me.

With 26,000 entrants in this race, if you start in a later corral like we did, the first 12 miles of the race is really hard to navigate and get into a rhythm. The water stops are chaos and there are people everywhere, walking, run-walking, running, stopping dead in their tracks in front of you. Every corner is like a turn buoy on the swim in a triathlon - everyone gets bunched up and you have to avoid smacking into people, getting squashed into a curb, or having someone step on you. Trying to negotiate all of this is tiring. If I did this race again, I would be very tempted to lie about my pace so that I could get a spot in one of the first corrals. I had brought a small bottle of water with me so that I wouldn't have to try to maneuver into the first few water stops, and I think this really helped.

They changed the course this year. The race started at the Alamodome and wound up St. Mary's street to the zoo. Then, to my delight, we ran up and over Stadium Drive past the main entrance of Trinity University and down the other side along the access road of 281. I spent all my time through this section enjoying the huge crowds of students who had shown up to wave signs and cheer, and yelling to Linda "I used to live in that building!" and laughing. We ran past the lacrosse field and the tennis courts and the gym and I recalled so many snippets of happy memories from college. Up Ledge Lane and past Prassel Hall where the kids were hanging off their balconies watching and cheering. What a rush. And, all of it was nicely shaded. With all this distraction, I almost didn't notice that we were running up some pretty tough little hills.

We ran back into downtown on Main, and at mile 7 I got to see Robert, Andre, Gina, and Rebecca, who were spectating (Gina snapped this photo). At this point, Brian had run up to catch Aixa and Orissa, and Linda and I were running together. We were chatting a little bit, and I was listening with the other ear to a fabulous new mix on my iPod that Shelly and Valerie had helped me create last week.

The course divided between half and full marathon at mile 12. After running off to the right towards the missions, finally we had some breathing room. Mile 13.1 came and went. I looked at my watch and observed that if I ran even splits (hahahahaha) I would be able to get a 4:30. I picked up the pace a little. By this point, Linda and I had stopped talking and had our game faces on. It was then that I started to notice that we were passing people. We were passing everyone. I began counting. Between miles 13.1 and 15, we passed 150 people.

Both of us were sticking to our nutrition plan of a gu every half hour and a saltstick every hour. Gatorade every time we passed an aid station that had it (note: there are 20 aid stations advertised on this course. Every other one has Gatorade. As someone who is used to a buffet of sports drink, gu, ice, and other treats at every mile in WTC triathlon races, I do not like this, especially on a hot and humid day).

Up until mile 16, we had followed Coachie's rules. We never stopped running, even through the aid stations. I kept the happiest, most positive attitude I've ever had, singing along to my iPod, chattering to Linda when she seemed to need it. She did the same for me. And then at mile 16, we stopped to walk through a water stop and eat a gu, and kept walking for a little longer than we needed to. Looked at each other and smiled, ashamed. And then started to run again.

At mile 17, the course veered off into a somewhat hilly 2 mile out-and-back. I looked at my watch and noted an 11:07 pace. I said to Linda, "Ok, every mile after this at 11:07 or better is a victory." She said ok and told me that her heart rate was getting high. I was thankful to have left my heartrate strap at home. One less thing to worry about. Now was the time to see if I could stay positive.

I was tested almost right away. I felt a twinge in my right quad, then a twinge in the calf of the same leg. Cramps. Nooooooooo! It's only mile 17! Ok, what to do. Take another saltstick, even though it isn't time. Stay positive. So I did. The cramp subsided.

We saw Aixa and Brian heading back on the out-and-back while we were still on our way out. We never saw Orissa, although apparently at some point, we passed her. At an aid station around mile 18, I lost track of Linda and continued the rest of the race on my own. Saw my co-worker Vincent on his way out while I was approaching mile 19, and waved at him. Ok, he's a rookie, I can't let him catch me.

As the wheels fell off at mile 19, I stuck to the plan. Although I couldn't help falling off the pace, and I had to walk to shake out cramps that were taking over both calves, shins, and hammys at the same time, I kept moving forward in the most positive fashion. The mantra "pain is inevitable, suffering is optional" was rolling around in my head as I sang Three Day's Grace's "Pain" (thank you Shelly for the song suggestion - it is a GREAT one!). I ran out of my own saltsticks and took salt packets from the medical tents to try to make the cramps subside, but it didn't really help.

I'd have the same opinion of miles 19-24 if I was having a great day - that part of the course sucked big time. It was all within the Mission Trail park, along a concrete sidewalk that is just like the greenbelt that Coachie is always telling me not to run on. Hot, exposed concrete. No breeze, no shade, and sparse aid stations. Everyone was walking. But I thought to myself that this run course looked like the run course of Ironman Arizona, the race that I DNF'd without making it to the run exactly one year ago today. Today was the day I was getting to run a marathon instead of sitting in an urgent care in Phoenix with road rash. So I tried to imagine that I was running at Ironman Arizona, and with that, I maintained focus and positive energy.

Around mile 25, I realized that I wouldn't be getting a new PR, and that in fact, I wasn't even going to match my dreaded 4:46 3x marathon time. Turns out there is something worse than 4:46 - it's running slower than 4:46. As I ran back onto city streets and made that final turn onto Cherry Street towards the Alamodome, I saw the time slipping away, but I kept moving forward toward the finish line.

The finishers chute was surrounded by cheering spectators telling the runners what a great job we were doing. I took it in and smiled. My final time: 4:51:10. My second worst marathon time ever. But you know what? I am prouder of this race than all the rest, because I was able to stay relentlessly positive. I also feel like my running is the strongest it's ever been, and that on a nice day, I would have had a wonderful race.

Brian and Aixa had crossed the finish line 25+ minutes earlier, new PRs for both of them on a brutal day - amazing! I wandered through the finisher's area sort of floating and grabbing every beverage that was handed to me - chocolate milk, frozen amazing Jamba Juice smoothies, Gatorade, water. Was able to find Robert and Andre and stand around for a minute talking. Found Orissa, whose hip flexor was seizing up. Orissa told us that she'd caught up with Linda and forced her to get medical attention, and that Linda had had to DNF due to heat exhaustion.

We went into the medical tent and talked with my friend Tim who was working there. He told us that the course had been closed just 30 minutes before due to the heat - the out-and-back at mile 17 had been closed and people were being sent straight past it to the finish - anyone who hadn't reached mile 17 yet would only be permitted to run 22 miles that day. The temperature had matched the record for that day - 87 degrees.

Found Linda at another medical tent and then we went and caught the shuttle back to the park and ride. We were able to laugh as we recounted tales of the day. On the way to the race, we had talked of doing the San Antonio/Las Vegas double-double, which is actually a thing because both races are on the same day - you run here and then fly to Vegas and run again. On the way home we made a pact to never let each other sign up for another full marathon again, unless it has a swim and bike before it.

I've made this promise before at the end of every marathon that I run, and this time is no different. And every time I said it, I've had to retract it the next day when I say, "I know I can do better. I want to try again."

I know I can do better. I want to try again. Austin Marathon, February 2014? Maybe we can find a coupon code.

Why Tri? (Some Thoughts on Motivation)

I've been reflecting quite a bit in the last couple of weeks about triathlon and motivation and I thought I'd throw some of my thoughts down here. First though, I want to say thank you to the folks who contacted me after Longhorn - I appreciate the advice and kind, kind words - thank you! I also received the question: why put yourself out there like that, you big whiner? I fully admit that I might have sounded like a bratty child throwing a temper tantrum about a day that didn't go the way I wanted it to. But I feel like it's important in the documentation of my journey to not only publish the awesome stuff, but to describe the bad days too, because it's honest.

So in the aftermath of the "bad day," (which after some reflection, really didn't turn out to be so bad) I'm here thinking about triathlon and what it means to me and why do I do it anyway. Dawn had Shelly and me answer this question when we began training for our first Ironman. We both struggled with it for weeks (What does it meaaaaan!?), and we were surprised to find out that simply "to find out if I can" is a sufficient answer if it means something to you.

The problem is that after you find out that you can, the question becomes "Now what?" or I guess, "Now why?" So now I'm sitting here questioning: why do I do triathlon? Why am I trying to go faster? What is going to keep me motivated to continue to push myself, to get up early to train, to (try really hard to) eat right all the time, to go to bed early every night, to make it hurt in training, to NOT QUIT when a workout isn't going the way I want it to, to repeatedly choose exercise or sleep over social events, to stay positive, to keep running, swimming, biking? I need this answer because I need to know and understand what motivates me. I need to reach and hold on to it when it gets tough, whether during training or racing.

In a conversation with Robert last week, I came to the answer: I want to be great at something. Not just good. I'm "okay" at lots of things, but I want to be really great at something. I don't think "something" necessarily has to be triathlon, but that's what I've picked, which is lucky because I truly can say that I love to train! That's a good thing because clearly "to be great" also requires "to do a whole lot of hard work."

Then the question is: how do you define great? A while back, "great" was to FINISH a 10K, marathon, short course triathlon, Ironman. Now, it would be absolutely absurd for me to say "I want to qualify for Kona/70.3 Worlds" or "I want to win my age group." I'm all about striving for attainable goals, and those are completely out of reach for me. But maybe, just maybe, one day they won't be. The great thing about triathlon is that it truly is a lifetime sport. So "being great" will mean being better than yesterday, every day. This is something I can work with. Onward!

Austin 70.3 Race Report 2013 (Or, How My Brain Ruined My Day)

Because it's happened to me in running and is inevitable after many attempts at a particular distance, I knew that it was only a matter of time before I had a disappointing triathlon race. You can't set a new PR every time. I wasn't prepared for how it would feel, though, so this post will be an attempt to talk about my feelings and help myself. (At this point you can stop reading if you don't want to get sucked down into a spiral of self pity. You have been warned.)

At this moment, I can't think of anything worse than running across a finish line and having your friends ask "what happened" with a look of concern on their face. That's the ones who could actually look at me and talk to me without being awkward and uncomfortable. Unless perhaps it's seeing your coach as you're running angrily toward the finish line, and instead of the greeting I've gotten used to ("I'm so proud of you"), you get the quiet comment, "Just finish it. Get it done." The disappointment that I'm feeling in myself for not meeting my goals at this race is amplified by the disappointment I feel from my friends, coach, fellow triathletes. We all expected better from me, and it didn't happen. Yes, I'm aware that I'm beating myself up.

Now, based on the previous paragraph, you might think that I walked it in at some miserable, horrifying time. This is not the case, which makes it even more confusing and, because when things don't feel good I start to get angry instead of sad, this is where I get mad. I was slower than I expected to be yesterday. However, my time of 5:50:12 (yes, the seconds are important there - here's why...) is only one second slower than my previous all-time best time at this distance, a PR that I set last year in Kerrville. Just one year ago, I was doing mental backflips about how amazing a 5:50 is, and now I'm crying rivers about meeting the same time.

Here's the synopsis of what happened. I had a great swim. I mean it felt fantastic. My (much improved) stroke felt smooth and fresh and strong, and when I ran out of the water and saw my time (35:xx), I was overjoyed that today was going to be MY DAY! Ran up to the transition and had a swift T1, during which I ran a long way in my bike shoes through mud. Got to the bike mount line and couldn't clip in because my cleats were full of mud. Stopped, dug (some of) the mud out, tried again. Repeated 4 times, and wasted 6 minutes. I know this because I looked at my watch. This is where my brain took over. "Well you just lost the minutes you gained with that fast swim. That sucks, and you're not going to get it back." 

This is where my day went downhill. I felt panicky as I started the bike. Fighting with myself about "I need to make up that time" - "No you don't, you need to focus on the task at hand." Same old bullshit. I was glad to have driven the course the day before because the roads on this course are not in the best shape, and I have a fear of the unknown. I knew where the dangerous places were and this allowed me to stay in my aerobars for much more of the ride than if I hadn't been aware. What I was unable to do was to follow the plan that Coachie set out for me. I felt like my legs had nothing. I kept thinking, I need to get past this section because then it gets flat and fast and I can go - but that flat and fast feeling never came to me.

Note - this course is CROWDED. It doesn't ever stop being crowded. I think there are 2000 participants in this race, as opposed to the 700 I raced with at Buffalo Springs. So yesterday I also learned that I'm not over my fear of other cyclists. People do stupid, dangerous stuff. I watched it happen all day. Particularly towards the end of the bike, after mile 40, when there's a narrow lane for bikes because the road is open to traffic and they cone off only the shoulder for bikes to ride on, and cyclists are still trying to pass...I saw a woman bounce off a cone in her attempt to pass a slower rider, and she bounced into traffic and very narrowly missed bouncing off a Suburban that had to hit the brakes. I screamed at her "it's not worth it!" and then I shut it down, stopped trying to pass people, sunk into misery and self defeat. Fear won.

A little fighting voice in me spoke up when I started the run. "Come on, you can salvage this. Just run fast." So I did. I mean, for me, I really did. I achieved the fastest run I've ever done at this distance (2:07). This is huge for me. It's the first time I've averaged faster than 10 minute miles at the end of a half-Ironman. My running has improved! The problem is I just felt miserable the entire time I was doing it. Completely unhappy.  "I hate this, I hate this, I hate this" is what was going through my head for 2+ hours, and it sucked. 

Then I started calculating. My goal times were long gone. But I realized that I was in danger of not even meeting my previous PR. Not acceptable. I picked up the pace for the last 2 miles and ended up coming within one second of my PR. Which feels terrible but probably feels better than missing it by a minute.

Why I'm so disappointed:

1. Unrealistic expectations. Planning for this race with Dawn, we set some very high expectations that I'm too embarrassed to even put in writing here. Actually no - I'll put it out there - I was shooting for a finish time that would put me in striking distance of a rolldown spot to the World Championships race in Canada. I think my mental meltdown had quite a bit to do with not being able to stand up to the pressure of those expectations. 

2. All the time I spent training...and for what? I could have been spending time with my family and friends. I could have been letting my hamstring/adductor heal without spending lots of time and many dollars at physical therapy for the last 6 weeks. I could have been spending some more time at work instead of feeling like a slacker putting in my basic 40 hours to train and go to PT when all my coworkers are working overtime on this massive project that we're launching in just a few short weeks.

3. I hated all but 35 minutes of this race (the swim). I mean, hated it. I've never felt any kind of animosity towards triathlon before. I know that those feelings contributed to my disappointing performance. The contrast of how I felt during this race to how I felt earlier this summer at Buffalo Springs - it's unbelievable.

Things I learned:

1. Once my brain shuts down, I'm done. My brain got the better of me (again). When has there ever been a race where something unexpected doesn't happen? I need to learn to roll with it better.

2. I am not one of those athletes who "brings it" on race day. I know plenty of people who do, but I am not one of them. I race exactly as fast as I train and nothing more. So if I am going to achieve in racing, I need to achieve in training. Otherwise, I'm being unrealistic.

Things I need to learn:

1. How to "dig deep" when not in panic mode. As soon as I knew I was in danger of embarrassing myself with a finish time slower than my previous PR, I dug in and raced to the finish. I've done this over and over again, usually while running marathons. How do I dig deep before I have to?

2. How to handle myself better on the bike. It's been almost a year since I crashed at IMAZ. I need to stop riding like a scared little baby. To do this, I need to get over my fear of other cyclists, and to do that, I need to learn to handle myself better on the bike. I need to be able to ride around benign corners in my aerobars. Hell, I need to learn how to ride around benign corners without feeling like I'm out of control of my own bike, because that's how I felt yesterday. Any suggestions for how to do this would be much appreciated, except please don't tell me to go ride my tri bike in a pack because I'm too scared. :(

In conclusion! For now, without having consulted Coachie, so we'll see if it holds...I am hanging up my tri bike for a while. When I feel like it, I am going to go get the love of cycling back by riding my road bike with my hubby. I'm going to try to find the joy in this again, because if I lose that, what's the point? My next race is in June at Buffalo Springs, my favorite race, and I cannot have a day there that feels like yesterday felt. 

If you've made it all the way through this pity party post, thank you for reading. Please don't feel like you have to comment that you're still proud of me, etc. But if you have any tips for staying mentally in the game when stuff doesn't go your way, or digging deep earlier, or bike skills 101... please send them my way. :)

Breakthroughs and Setbacks

I've had lots of good intentions for posting the last few weeks. The problem is that every time I think to myself "oh that's a good one! I'll write about that when I get home," by the time I sit down to write, the feeling that I had has been replaced by a different one, sometimes good and sometimes bad. So today I just decided to write about this roller coaster that I've been on.

The month of September has been a good one for training, and the reason why might surprise you. Here's what happened. We were off work for Labor Day and Robert and I have been getting his Harley ready for me to ride with him (he's had the bike for years, and I've never had any desire to get on there with him, until Sons of Anarchy came along, don't judge me). So I have this adorable pink helmet and the motorcycle has a seat and pegs for me, and we just need a day to get out there and practice.

After a regular weekend of tri training, we hopped on the Harley on Labor Day and went for a successful ride for an hour an a half around all the roads that I usually ride my bicycle on. It was exhilarating (ok, at first it was terrifying and I almost didn't make it out of our neighborhood without throwing up from fear. But that's a whole other story). The problem is that about an hour into the ride, my same old hamstring was screaming at me just from sitting on the motorcycle, and when we returned home I could barely walk.

For almost a year, I've been figuring out ways to "work through" this hamstring issue without solving it. I've been telling myself that it doesn't hurt while I'm riding/running, so what's the big deal if it hurts all day at work? This summer, I was beginning to dread the running days because every time I ran, I knew I'd be in some pretty solid discomfort for the entire day afterwards. But it wasn't "affecting my life." Well, now it was. And I would be damned if I didn't get to ride around the hill country on the back of the motorcycle holding onto my very own Jax Teller because of a tri injury.

I asked Coachie what to do and she begged me to go and see Justin Martindale over at Promotion Physical Therapy. She has so much confidence in him and he really helped Shelly back in the fall before IMAZ, so I decided that even though physical therapy had not seemed to help that much before, that I needed to give this another try.

This experience has been far different from my PT experience in May. After 3 weeks of 3x a week at Promotion and following all the rules, I believe this is helping me to get better for real this time. The real benefit is coming from having my coach and physical therapist talking to each other about my progress. After a conversation with both of them, we determined that I needed to "push it" on a week's worth of workouts and "see what happened."

Here's where the roller coaster comes in. I followed their directions and started pushing it. And because I wasn't afraid to hurt myself, I broke through left and right in swimming, biking, and running, hitting intervals I've never hit, reaching speeds and heart rate zones that I've never been able to grasp and hold on to before. This happened consistently for 2 weeks and I know it was all because I put fear away. Even with harder workouts, my hamstring was feeling better too. Yesssssss!

Well then, after a particularly awesome weekend workout, I was doing a pretty benign swim on Tuesday and I felt sharp pain in my hip flexor. By the end of that day, I could barely walk. Luckily, I had a PT appointment. Justin couldn't figure out what I'd done, he tried to make my hip physically feel better, but mentally I was a mess. I went home and cried and felt like I was back at square one.

And then 2 days later, it feels better, the hamstring feels great, I'm probably one PT appointment away from "graduating," and I'm back to smashing workouts and feeling super strong.

Roller coaster. I hate roller coasters. I've made a decision to just hold on and go for this ride. Longhorn 70.3 is in exactly one month.